Late
by Ploov
Summary: The line between love and hate is incredibly thin, but no one knew this better then Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. Rated M for sexual content and language
1. Introduction

**Hey guys! Thanks for reading ^.^ I would ****love**** feedback, it usually makes me update faster!**

**Title: Late (Love + Hate = Late)**

**Rating: M (for sexual content and language)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, just this plot!**

The line between love and hate is incredibly thin, but no one knew this better then Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. Ever since their first years at Hogwarts, the two boys had bickered and fought. Everyone that looked upon them saw two powerful wizards battling for dominance as well as massive amounts of hatred; there was only one wizard that knew better. And that person was indeed Harry himself.

His life had been played out under a spot light, so he was very surprised that not one person had caught on to his little crush...not even his two best friends. And for that he was thankful; his life was crazy enough without them knowing he fancied Draco Malfoy of all people. Draco. The name itself made Harry smile.

Now, you might ask why Harry hasn't confessed his feelings to said Slytherin Prince. To that question the answer is very simple: Draco doesn't like boys. The blonde is known around Hogwarts as a total ladies man. Harry, as well as most of the student and staff, has seen Draco lip locked with many a giggling, blushing girl. Harry, who was neither well groomed nor fashionable, looked nothing but rugged which seemed to be the exact opposite of what Draco's type was.

The second reason Harry had not told Draco about his little infatuation was that they were rivals. Enemies. Nemesis's. I think you get the point. Draco and Harry's fights were all the contact he ever got with the beautiful blonde, and by gods, he wasn't going to mess that up by throwing his feelings on the floor for Draco (and probably the rest of Hogwarts) to laugh at and then repeatedly stomp on. No indeed - he needed no more humiliation or attention thank you very much.

Anyways, as of late, Harry had been having extremely vivid dreams about Draco. And from the bits and pieces he could remember he didn't want them coming true. Every night for the past week, his dreams had taken him to a very small, very dark room. It was in this room where he had seen Draco standing above him holding something. Harry could remember Draco saying "pain". Each time Harry awoke he was covered in sweat and scared out of his mind. Harry's dreams always became reality in some way or another, so he was not about to let it go. At least not easily.

We move our scene to Snape's classroom, where we find one very peeved Harry Potter.


	2. Move

"Yes, Professor," Harry said trying to hold onto his temper, "it won't happen again."

"And, if it does? You shall be cleaning every nook and cranny of my classroom" Snape paused for effect, "_without_ your wand. You are dismissed, Mr. Potter."

Harry flung open the dungeon door. Wanting to put as much space between him and that slimy-nosed git, he walked as quickly as he could down the corridor; he just wanted to get back to his dorm and sleep, spending the evening in detention was far from enjoyable.

"Of all the days to get detention…" Harry muttered angrily under his breath, "and of all the reasons". As he rounded the corner he spotted Draco skulking around. Harry groaned. He usually enjoyed, secretly of course, confrontations with the ill-willed blonde, but tonight he was feeling lethargic. Harry stared straight ahead, "Maybe if I just pretend I don't see him he won't confront me," he thought to himself quickening his pace to just short of a run. Harry was not in the mood tonight.

"Potter!" Draco scoffed loudly, "Late for a date with your precious Ronald Weasley?" Draco grinned to himself, but to his surprise Harry kept on walking.

"Potter, how _dare_ you ignore me!" he hissed whipping out his wand and taking a few fast steps to the right to intersect Harry's path. Harry's temper flared, "Out of my way, Malfoy. Or I will send you to the hospital wing in a carry-out box." His paced slowed to a stop as he reached Draco. They stared at one another, neither one backing down.

"Is that a threat, half-blood?" Draco's expression turned even colder as he took a small step closer to Harry. Draco was only a couple inches taller than Harry, but Harry felt threatened. He slowly reached for his wand, "Move, Malfoy…" his tone deep with a dark undertone.

"No. I think I shall stay right where I am scar-head," Malfoy taunted in a cruel voice. Harry slowly backed Draco against the wall, their eyes never leaving each other. Harry brought his wand up to Draco's face, his hand slightly shaking.

"Why so tense, Potter? Afraid to use your wand on someone far more superior than yourself? How pathetic. No matter, looks like you're the one that will be going to the hospital wing today," Draco cackled coldly, drawing up his wand getting ready to cast a spell on Harry.

"Petrificus totalus!" Harry quickly said seeing the boy's raised wand. The blonde froze up right where he stood. He looked into the blonde's gray eyes.

"Next time I say move, I mean _move_," Harry hissed as he took a couple steps away from Draco's petrified body. Harry turned and stormed down the corridor once more.

When he got to his dorm room he flopped down on his bed. It was only 8:30 but he was beyond tired. All he wanted to do was lay down on his soft bed, curl up under the blankets, and sleep. For a long, long time.

"Harry!" Ron called out, worry clearly showing on his face. Harry blinks a couple of times, just then registering that one of his roommates was shouting something at him. He shook his head, slowly coming back to reality. Harry had drifted off into deep space, he had no clue how long he had been sitting here.

"Sorry mate, must have been day dreaming," he said putting on a half smile for Ron, but he sighed internally. Harry wished he could tell Ron and Hermione about his crush on his rival. But something told him he should keep it to himself...at least for the time being. Ron still had a worried frown on his face.

"You okay, Harry? Should I tell Hermione you won't be coming to the inter-house party thing tonight?" Ron asked, feeling awkward he stared to busy himself with picking out the least tacky outfit he could find in his wardrobe. Shit, Harry had forgotten about that. That was tonight? He sighed.

"Nah, I'm alright. I promised Ginny I would be there," Harry stated a little sadly. Ginny was a pretty girl, beautiful rather, but Harry couldn't picture himself with her. Earlier this year she had made it very clear that she wanted to be "Mrs. Potter" someday. Even though he had said he only thought of them as friends, her persistence was admirable. He had agreed to go to this party with her for one purpose, and one purpose only: to make Draco jealous. As ridiculous and unlikely that was, at least he wouldn't be alone.

"Well, we better hurry and get dressed. It started 30 minutes ago," the tone in Ron's voice screamed please-don't-make-me-go. Harry empathized with him. Inter-house gatherings usually had really bad party games as well as a lot of drunken dancing and snogging. Harry gulped.

To be continued…


	3. Ready

Ron stood in front of the mirror examining himself, a look of sheer terror on his face.

"Harry, there's no way in bloody hell I can wear this!" Ron panicked with a little squeak. Harry was sitting on the end of his bed looking very bored; Ron had been fretting about his outfit for the last 10 minutes. Maybe Ron was more flamboyant then he had realized—the thought of his roommate kissing another guy made him shiver with disgust. No. Ron was just…sensitive.

"I can't wear this, or that…every piece of clothing I have is either a hand me down or something Mum has made for me!" Ron looked close to tears. He turned around looking at his backside, and added under his breath "and this pair has dodgy little pockets." Harry was fed up with waiting after it hit the 17 minute mark. He got up from the edge of the bed, walked over to his trunk, and started rummaging around in it. All of Harry's actions went unnoticed by Ron, who was too busy hating the reflection he saw staring back at him in the mirror.

"Here," Harry said as he threw a pair of blue jeans and a tight-fitting purple t-shirt at Ron. The boy looked at the clothes he had caught with big, wide eyes. He looked up at Harry.

"Go on, try them on. They won't bite you, Ronald." Harry couldn't help but smile.

"Oh, they might be a little tight on you. But trust me, girls think that kinda thing is hot," Harry said as he mentally shivered. At least he knew he wasn't attracted to his best mate, just the thought of him in tight jeans made him want to lose his lunch.

"Thanks mate," Ron breathed a sigh of relief that he didn't have to look like a total wanker tonight. Harry, on the other hand, was wearing a pair of black jeans that hugged his arse nicely, a tight forest green v-neck t-shirt, and a light grey hoodie. Three guesses whose eye he was trying to catch—even though he knew it wouldn't have the effect he was looking for, a boy could dream.

After Ron had approved the outfit that Harry had let him borrow, the two boys finally made their way down to the room of requirement. This was where all the parties at Hogwarts were held; it was easy to just imagine a dance floor, lots of dark and comfy corners, and many rooms with big beds (the rooms of course had silencing spells on them). As they approached the wall a door suddenly appeared. They both turned to look at each other.

"Better not come back to the dorm room tonight, and if you do, it better not be alone," Ron said, trying to pump up his own courage before going in.

"Same to you," Harry laughed at his roommate's out of character comment. Harry reached for the handle and pulled it open, loud music was playing.

"At least it has a good base line," Harry thought as he nervously stepped in after Ron and shut the door. The first thing Harry hears? Malfoy. Draco Malfoy and his sexy, succulent voice.

"I never tire of being right, Potter. You _were_ late to your date with the Weasel," Malfoy sneered, staring daggers at Harry.

"Oooh no! You caught me, Malfoy," Harry mused, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I absolutely _love_ cock," he added, reverse psychology you know. Harry was not about to let Malfoy ruin yet another of his evenings, so he decided to talk away before things (or himself) got heated up. Malfoy cackled with delight at Harry's comment.

"I always knew you were a bloody poof, Potter," he spat, looking to his left where Crabbe laughed like a total arse. Malfoy seemed extremely proud of how "witty" he was. As Harry walked away Draco glanced back at Harry, his eyes wandering up and down his backside. He was suddenly very puzzled.

"Crabbe, was _St. Potter_ wearing Slytherin colors? Hm, maybe he's finally realizing whose superior at this school," Draco breathed, a hint of malice in his tone. Crabbe nodded, following Draco to a nearby couch.

Harry walked over to Hermione, who was sitting talking to Pansy. The Slytherin girl quickly said goodbye and walked off. But as she did, she eyed Harry like he was covered in troll boogies.

"You're late," Hermione stated the obvious in a firm tone of voice. His head whipped around to face the frizzy haired girl.

"Ron couldn't decided what to wear, don't blame me!" he said throwing his hands up like he was being arrested.

"Ronald looks good tonight, somehow I don't believe you," she smiled inwardly. Harry raised an eye brow at her as she looked across the room to a very awkwardly posed Ronald Weasley. After a few seconds Harry cleared his throat to remind his other best friend that he was still here. She snapped out of it.

"Anyways..." She began, trying to rid them of the awkward silence that had formed between them.

"Pansy and I were discussing something very interesting just now." Harry couldn't help but be intrigued. What did a Slytherin need with a Gryffindor? There wasn't much. The only thought Harry had was that Draco was secretly planning to kill Harry, and Pansy was just sending a warning (of course his mind went straight to Draco).

"And...?" he questioned. Hermione just sat there with a grin on her face.

"You'll see," she said firmly.

"But-" Harry was cut off as Hermione got up quickly and walked away. This always happened to him; he never got the full details. It had been this way in the chamber of secrets, with the order, even with Dumbledore for god's sake! He sighed. This was going to be a long night and he needed a drink. Looking around he spotted the bar, and he knew just what he was having: cranberry vodka (which was the strongest drink Harry could tolerate without becoming a babbling baboon).

With drink in hand Harry found an empty couch and plopped down. Suddenly a quite tipsy Neville sat down beside him.

"Well don't you look gorgeous tonight," Neville slurred the word gorgeous a little. Harry had thought that Neville would become an awkward, weird looking adult...but as it turns out, he was one of the more attractive boys at Hogwarts. Neville smiled a goofy smile up at the boy who lived.

"How much have you had to drink, love?" Potter wanted to see how far he could take this before Neville got weirded out and left.

"Two shots," Longbottom gleamed with pride. Was he really this tipsy already? Harry didn't think he'd ever meet someone that was more of a light weight then he was. Harry wanted to take his little game further.

"Neville," he said incredibly seductively, "your lips look so soft, how do you do it?" Harry licked his bottom lip for added effect. He saw Neville's fist clench as he bit his own bottom lip. It looked like he was trying to hold back a moan. Whoa, whoa. Was Neville Longbottom gay? Harry's heart began to panic—he didn't mean to start something with this boy. Slowly Neville began to lean towards Harry with what looked like a kissing face. To Harry, it felt like his life was ending. What if Draco saw?

"If there is a God out there, don't let him kiss me!" Harry mentally prayed squeezing his eyes shut. His prayers were quickly answered; he was never so glad to hear the cool, smooth voice of his rival.

"Potter!" Draco yelled at Harry. Longbottom's head whipped towards the loud noise.

To be continued...


	4. Dance

"If you are so inclined to throw yourself at just _anyone_, at least take it to a room, scar-head," the way Draco eyed Neville you'd have thought he was something extremely disgusting or unnatural. Malfoy's father was strongly against gays and it seemed to have rubbed off onto his son. Harry couldn't help but feel totally dejected. It was just his luck to fall for his rival, but on top of that, a boy who clearly was disturbed by any boy on boy action.

"If you're so bothered by it, leave," a voice said from behind Malfoy. Everyone turned to see who it was.

"Ginny!" Harry exclaimed, "Where have you been?"

"Just been talking to Dean Thomas. He's such a nice kid," she looked at him with a beaming smile. Harry raised an eyebrow and she blushed. Whenever Ginny said someone was a "nice kid" it usually meant she had a thing for them.

"Don't suppose you'd be okay without me, would you Harry?" she looked at him sheepishly.

"No, go right ahead," Harry smiled. Anything to get Ginny to go for another guy, he was a little tired of always having to remind her that the two of them were just friends. And nothing more.

Harry needed to get away from Neville as well as Malfoy. He quickly downed the drink that was in his hand and bolted for the dance floor; maybe it was dark enough that no one would recognize him there. The song had a good heat and it wasn't too long until Harry was completely emerged in the song—oh how he loved alcohol, he could always let loose and have a good time. He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling it back away from his eyes. Suddenly he felt someone come up behind him. The person started grinding their hips into Harry's backside. Harry tried to look back and see who it was, but the flashing lights blinded him.

"To hell with it," he thought and started to grind back tenfold. Slowly Harry felt something getting progressively harder between them. Harry couldn't help but burst out in a smile for two reasons: one, it was a guy behind him, and two he was making the guy excited. They danced harder and more sensually; soon they were both dripping with sweat.

"Sorry, got to go my love," the boy whispered into Harry's ear. He shivered at his warm breath. As suddenly as the boy had come, he was gone. Potter quickly turned around searching for where the boy had gone…Harry wanted more. All he got was an eye full of Malfoy who was sitting on the couch (he was glistening with sweat…weird) near the dance floor. It was like Malfoy felt Harry's eyes on him, he turned towards the Golden Boy and their eyes locked. Harry blushed at the intensity of his eyes. Harry's red face made Malfoy raise an eye brow. Harry couldn't take such a sexy look from his rival—he had to leave before he exploded in his pants. Either that, or Malfoy would throw another rude comment at him. He walked over to Hermione.

"You okay, Harry?" she said taking in her friends disheveled appearance.

"Yeah, just tired from dancing," he lied. She gave him a knowing look.

"How about I start a party-wide game, I think you'll enjoy it. _Draco_ will even play," she winked.

"What?" Harry's eyes went wide, did Hermione know about his crush? Before he could start questioning her, she started calling people over.

"Here's how the game works," Hermione started to lecture excitedly, holding an old hat (where she had gotten it from, Harry did not know) that looked like a distant cousin of the Sorting Hat. There were quite a few giggles from girls that already knew how to play the game.

"Each group will consist of two people. Neither of you will know the identity of the other group member—your voice _will be _disguised. First, you will draw a number from the hat. As soon as you start to pull it out, you will be apparated to a pitch-black room with the other person that drew the same number as you. Once the group members are present, the game will start. There will be a set of questions you can ask the other person, and you _must_ answer the question. Truthfully. If you lie, a buzzer will sound and you must take a shot," Hermione continued, sparing no detail.

"Oh!" she suddenly called out, "Sexual preference will be taken into account." At this addition, Harry's enthusiasm rose. Thank God, he wasn't going to get stuck with a girl; that's that last thing he wanted tonight. After all of his confrontations with Malfoy, he just wanted to relax and play a potentially exciting game. Hermione started to pass the hat around. When Malfoy drew his number, he looked oddly nervous. A Malfoy nervous? What is the world coming to? Harry couldn't help but wonder which girl he would get paired with. He felt a ping of jealously run through his spine. Finally the hat came to Harry. He mustered up all his Gryffindor courage and drew a number. WOOSH. The apparition knocked the breath out of him. He landed on his feet with a loud thump.

To be continued…

A/N: So…I don't know if I should keep going with the story? D: Are people enjoying it? Blahhh, please review and let me know!


	5. Unknown

"Hey, anyone here yet?" Harry heard an unfamiliar voice ask the air. Hermione was right, their voice was disguised. His hands started to sweat slightly; he was so nervous. Suddenly he felt a chair appear beside him. Harry sat down as he spoke.

"Yeah, I'm here now," Harry said knowing that his voice was disguised as well. Silence. A couple minutes passed, still neither boy talked. Harry couldn't take it anymore.

"Should I start?" he questioned breaking the deafening silence.

"One of us has to," shot the other boy. Harry was startled by his blunt answer.

"Um," Harry started, "What's your favorite color?" The other boy laughed half-heartedly.

"Starting off with the hard questions, then?" the boy said sarcastically. "Green, I love everything green: green eyes, green grass," the boy stated, "just so you know, my questions won't be as PG." Harry couldn't help but smile as he thought about his own green eyes.

"That's fine," the Golden Boy answered, "your turn."

"If you could know the answer to one question, any question, what would it be," the voice asked. Harry was surprised that it wasn't a graphic, or embarrassing, question. But honesty, he had no idea what he would ask. He didn't much like knowing things he wasn't supposed to…he always ended up losing sleep over it. Then the boy from earlier popped into his head. The one he danced with.

"I would ask who the bloke was that I danced with earlier," Harry truthfully admitted.

"He made me feel something I haven't felt since I first fell for…" he trailed off. Now he just felt silly.

"Seems like we have the same problem. I danced with someone tonight who I want to find again," he stated, a hint of longing in his tone.

"But anyways, you sound emotionally damaged," the boy teased Harry. The comment made Potter frown and he instantly regretted saying what he had.

"Shove it," Harry snipped back, crossing his arms over his chest and added, "It's my turn to ask a question, now open your ears and shut your mouth."

"Have you ever kissed a boy before?" that was the best question Harry could come up with, though he was interested in knowing how experienced this person was. The voice didn't speak for the longest time; it made him wonder if the bloke had heard his question or not.

"No…" the boy said softly after a bit. This made Harry wonder if he was in the closet. Harry (as well as Neville apparently) was, so it wasn't implausible that this boy was too. There was a long silence until the boy cleared his throat; it was almost like he was trying to recover from his last answer. Out of nowhere the voice spoke again.

"Are you a virgin?" it asked, Harry could feel his cheeks heat up.

"No," he answered stiffly. BEEP! The buzzer went off, calling Harry out on his lie. He flinched and reluctantly took a shot. Yuck, Harry hated straight up vodka.

"Oh my my, we have a virgin _and_a lier. I'm intrigued," the voice drawled, Harry could tell he was getting massive amounts of joy out of his embarrassment.

"Anyways, it's my turn," Potter spat. He would be getting this bloke back for that dirty question.

"Besides your head, where's the hairiest place on your body?" he grinned at the level of embarrassment he knew his question would cause the boy.

"Nowhere," unknown answered quickly, he sounded proud.

"Do you like that?" the voice questioned in a deeper, sensual tone. Harry felt his cock twitch; does that mean he's bald down there? He bit his lip. He was getting horny at this point.

"Heh, my turn to ask a question. If you could choose anyone in school to fuck, who would it be?" the boy inquired with no shame. Suddenly Harry felt himself getting a little warm. He took off his gray hoodie. His mind flashed to Draco; he was bent over, begging Harry to fuck him senseless. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thought. It was useless, his pants were already getting uncomfortably tight in certain areas. He cleared his throat before he answered; this person didn't know who he was...he could be honest. He _wanted _this person to know.

"Draco Malfoy," Harry stated, his voice sounded a little unsteady. Damn, he had said it! He had really told someone that he wanted Draco! An odd weight had been lifted off his shoulders and he couldn't help but sigh with relief.

"Excuse me? What did you just say?" the unknown boy asked, his voice also sounded unsteady. Harry thought he heard a bit of panic in the boys tone but brushed it off.

"I would fuck Draco Malfoy. I know he's not gay, but that doesn't mean a boy can't dream," he said with a little more confidence this time. There was silence, almost like Potter's answer had sent him deep into thought.

"I...," the boy slowly began; it sounded like he was unsure of how to continue. He said something else, but his voice was below a whisper. Harry didn't catch the second part of his sentence.

"Sorry, what was that?" he asked, curious to hear what had sent him into silence. Oh. Maybe he was one of Draco's creepy friends. Harry's heart began to race. Shit, why hadn't he thought of that before?

To be continued…

A/N: I'm almost finished with the next chapter!


	6. Prince

"Nothing, just play the game," the voice sounded a little disappointed. There was something softer about his voice now, it made Potter feel a little relief. If it had been one of Malfoy's friends they probably would have cursed him into next week (forgive my cliché phrase) or burst out laughing knowing a guy fancied the Slytherin Prince.

After that initial awkwardness had passed, the two boys sat there asking questions for what seemed like hours. Both parties had refused to answer some personal questions so they were feeling a little tipsy from all the shots. Harry liked this boy; he was rough around the edges, but soon as you got some booze in him he opened up. And as far as he could tell, this mystery boy liked him too.

"Where are you the most happy?" Harry knew if he said defense against the dark arts class or in the Forbidden Forest, it was probably a Slytherin.

"Oh God," he silently prayed, "Please don't let it be a Hufflepuff," Harry shivered at the thought of one of them sitting in the same dark room that he was in.

"In potions class," the boy answered. It sounded like he was smiling or recalling a fond memory. Or maybe he was bordering drunk. He continued, "See, I have fancy my potions partner. _A lot_," he emphasized.

"Who's your lab partner?" Harry asked, hoping the boy would answer. They were tipsy enough at this point that he thought the boy would answer any question that was thrown at him.

"Wouldn't you like to know," he snickered, "If you kiss me I'll tell you." Both boys blushed in the dark. Harry was suddenly very aware of his hands.

"Come over here, I think this is a bed," the boy's voice was full of desire. Harry started to fumble around in the dark, was he really going to kiss this guy? He didn't even know who this person was! After much searching he found the bed and this boy.

"Move closer, stupid," the boy teased Harry. Ugh, the Golden Boy felt so embarrassed. He could take on giant spiders, a basilisk, but this? He was sadly inexperienced and nervous. He slowly found his way over to the boy. Their hands touched but Harry pulled away quickly.

"I can be your prince, just trust me," the voice soothed. Because the two had been sitting in the pitch black for so long, all of Harry's other senses were heightened. The boy's sent was extremely familiar, almost intoxicating. White tea and musk? There was only one person that he could think of that smelled this way. But before Potter could think another thought, a soft and warm pair of lips gently pressed against his. It felt electric. Harry snaked his arm around the boy's neck—this boy, whoever he was, tasted _amazing_. The boy slowly parted his lips and deepened the kiss and Harry was much too happy to oblige. He wanted more, so the Golden Boy swung his leg over to straddle the boy's lap. The unknown boy let out a small gasp of pleasure at the added pressure of Potter on the rapidly hardening bulge in his pants.

Unknown softly placed a hand on the small of Harry's back. His hands were extremely soft and somewhat cold. His cold meshed magically with Harry's warmth. Everything about the boy was drawing Harry in—his scent, his movements, his moans. "More, more," was all Harry could think. He decided to act on his thoughts. Slowly he reached for the hem of the boy's shirt, swiftly pulling it off. He ran his hand over the boy's stomach.

"Fuck," Harry moaned as his fingers moved over extremely defined abs. The boy pulled off Harry's tight t-shirt and threw it on the ground somewhere. The Golden boy lowered Unknown onto his back, hovering over him. He ground his hips into the other boy's which drew out a long moan from the both of them. Harry needed this boy. Right fucking now. But, wait. Before he totally lost it the Golden Boy slowly pulled back (Harry is so weird….).

"You said you would tell me who your potions partner was if I kissed you," Potter softly said, he was genuinely curious. The boy below him chuckled. Harry gasped as he felt the boy's mouth suddenly attach to his neck. Oh Merlin, this boy knew just were to suck to drive him crazy.

"Please?" Harry half moaned as the boy ground his hips into Harry's. The boy below his moaned as well.

"Well, if you must know _now_," he said in between the kisses he planted on Harry's neck, "it's Harry Potter." The boy moved up to nibble on his ear.

"Wait," Harry suddenly froze. Wait, wait wait. Harry's mind exploded, that just couldn't be. **Draco Malfoy** was his lab partner for potions class. And Malfoy was _not_ gay. Malfoy was _not_ beneath him, kissing his neck, making him moan…_no_.

"What's your name," Harry demanded, complete and utter fear gripping his soul. Was this some kind of joke someone was playing on him?

"What's yours?" The boy asked, suddenly catching on to Harry's fear.

"Draco," the unknown boy said in unison with Potter's "Harry". Both sat absolutely still, not daring to move an inch.

To be continued…

A/N: How'd you guys like this chapter? Any suggestions on what should happen next? I'm pretty excited that I got two updates done in one day...Even though I have two midterms yet this week XD I always seem to get inspiration when I have the least time to write. Do you guys get that?


	7. Game Over

Neither boy could believe their ears. After what seemed like a thousand years frozen in shock, the boys awkwardly moved away from each other.

Silence.

More silence.

Harry gulped, his throat suddenly very dry. Draco just stood there, heart beating out of his chest.

"Uh..." Harry began before Draco cut him off.

"Well, Potter," he said in a some what cold tone, "it seems as if your mates have caught on to the silly little man crush you have on me. I can't believe I got thrown into such a _stupid_ and _idiotic _scheme. Why in the world would you think I would ever have feelings for another man!" Draco winced at his own harsh words. He didn't want to be mean, he wanted to embrace the man standing in the room with him. If only they would turn a light on or something, he wanted to see Harry's face. He wanted to reach out and grab the man that has been the object of his adoration for all these years. **Just turn the damn lights on!** He screamed in his head.

"Well," Harry felt like he was about to cry. Why did Draco's words hurt so much more than usual? He was so used to being harassed by him, but these words stung. "Don't you even worry. I want nothing to do with you, ever." Harry forced his last sentence, and as he did his heart sank and he began to shake. He wanted out of this stupid party game, he wanted out now! Trying to find his way in the pitch black, he ran straight into something that felt like a dresser.

"Ow!" Harry winced as he fell to the floor, crippled completely with emotional and physical pain. A tear or two that he had been holding back, escaped.

"Harry! Are you okay?" Malfoy sounded desperate. He flung his hands out to feel around for Harry in the dark. "Harry, say something," Draco pleaded.

"I want out, now! Hermione, _game over_!" and with that, the boy felt a warm even pressure all over his body. Wind was blowing around him in the black abyss...until suddenly he landed with a thud. Slowly he tried to open his eyes, the presents of light was so painful after being in the dark for such a long time. Harry heard a noise in front of him and tried to focus on the blurry mass sitting just across from him.

"Who's there?" Harry asked as he blinked over and over.

"It's me," said a sweet and tender voice.

_**To be continued... **_


End file.
